


Phantom Traveler (SEASON ONE, EPISODE FOUR)

by ackles_ass_equation



Series: Superghetto [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon, Episode: s01e04 Phantom Traveler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-04 16:36:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6666157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackles_ass_equation/pseuds/ackles_ass_equation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A forma client of Deanz calls his ass up when a plane crashes under mysterious circumstances. Dean n' Sam must board a endangered flight ta save tha other passengers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NOW

A still frame of a tropical beach scene yo. Hawaiian-style noize plays.

 _INT fo'_ realz _. AIRPORT - DAY_

A plane takin off is heard.  
A straight-up NERVOUS MAN up in a suit, GEORGE PHELPS, sits up. PHELPS checks his cold-ass ticket n' entas tha bathroom.

 **INTERCOM**  
Nuff props fo' flyin United Britannia Airlines.

 _INT fo'_ realz _. AIRPORT BATHROOM - DAY_

PHELPS is leanin over tha sink, splashin wata on his wild lil' grill fo' realz. A SECOND MAN comes outta tha stall area n' dries his hands.

 **SECOND MAN**  
Nervous flyer?

 **PHELPS**  
It aint nuthin but dat obvious, huh?

 **SECOND MAN**  
Yo ass know, what tha fuck is tha oddz of dyin up in a plane crash, biatch? I mean, what, biatch? Twenty thousand ta one?

PHELPS watches his ass go.

 **PHELPS**  
Wow. That's, uh, straight-up reassuring. Nuff props, biatch.

Above his head, a cold-ass lil cloud of black particlez exits a vent, swirls round his head, n' entas his wild lil' fuckin eyes.

_INT. PLANE - DAY_

**PILOT**  
Thanks.

Da PILOT, CHUCK, turns n' addresses a FLIGHT ATTENDANT, AMANDA.

 **CHUCK**  
Amanda, how tha fuck is yo dirty ass todizzle?

 **AMANDA**  
I be bustin just fine, Chuck.

AMANDA addresses a PASSENGER.

 **AMANDA**  
Welcome aboard. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 15C towardz tha back of tha plane, on tha right.

 **PASSENGER**  
Nuff props, biatch.

AMANDA addresses PHELPS.

 **AMANDA  
** Have a sick flight, sir.

PHELPS turns, n' we n' AMANDA peep dat his wild lil' fuckin eyes is straight-up black, even tha whites.

 **PHELPS**  
Oh, I be countin on dat shit.

AMANDA blinks nuff muthafuckin times, watchin PHELPS, n' shakes her head.

 **AMANDA**  
Um...uh, 11F, thatz tha middle of tha plane, on...

 **PASSENGER 2**  
Nuff props, biatch.

 **AMANDA**  
...the left.

_INT. PLANE - DAY_

**COPILOT**  
In just all dem minutes our flight crew will begin room steez up in tha cabin...

PHELPS turns ta his seatmate.

 **PHELPS**  
Excuse mah dirty ass. Do you know how tha fuck long we've been up?

 **WOMAN**  
Oh, uh...

Da WOMAN checks her watch.

 **WOMAN**  
Bout forty minutes.

 **PHELPS**  
Wow. Time straight-up do fly, huh, biatch? Excuse mah dirty ass. Ya Mom shoulda told ya, I gots ta stretch mah legs.

PHELPS gets up, squeezes past tha WOMAN, n' headz ta tha back of tha plane. When he reaches tha rear exit, he grasps tha release handle fo' realz. A YOUNG MAN up in a aisle seat, MAX JAFFEY, notices his muthafuckin ass.

 **MAX**  
Yo, what tha fuck tha hell is you bustin?!

PHELPS turns ta peep MAX, eyes black again, then rips tha door open. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude goes flyin up tha window, tha door flies off tearin half a win off tha plane, n' tha plane goes down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. AMANDA strugglez ta git ta a seat and, afta tha oxygen masks deploy, ta git one over her face. MAX, CHUCK, n' tha COPILOT already have dem on.


	2. ACT ONE

_INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY_

DEAN be asleep on his stomach.  
As tha door opens, DEAN awakens n' slips a hand under his thugged-out lil' pillow fo' a weapon.  
As tha pimpin' muthafucka turns ta look, da perved-out muthafucka sees SAM entering, carryin fruity-ass malt liquor n' pastries.

 **SAM**  
Morning, sunshine.

 **DEAN**  
What time is it?

 **SAM**  
Uh, itz bout five forty-five.

 **DEAN**  
In tha morning?

 **SAM**  
Yep.

 **DEAN**  
Where do tha dizzle go?

DEAN sits up.

 **DEAN**  
Did yo dirty ass git any chill last night?

 **SAM**  
Yeah, I grabbed a cold-ass lil couple hours.

 **DEAN**  
Liar. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 'Cause I was up at three, n' you was watchin a George Foreman infomercial.

 **SAM**  
Yo, what tha fuck can I say, biatch? It aint nuthin but rivetin TV.

 **DEAN**  
When was tha last time you gots a phat nightz chill?

 **SAM**  
I don't give a fuck, a lil while, I guess. It aint nuthin but not a funky-ass big-ass deal.

 **DEAN**  
Yeah, it is.

 **SAM**  
Look, I appreciate yo' concern-

 **DEAN**  
Oh, I aint concerned bout you, biatch. It aint nuthin but yo' thang ta keep mah ass kickin it, so I need you sharp.

SAM shrugs.

 **DEAN**  
Seriously, is you still havin nightmares bout Jess?

SAM crosses tha room, sits on tha other bed, n' handz a gangbangin' fruity-ass malt liquor ta DEAN.

 **SAM**  
Yeah. But it aint just her n' shit. It aint nuthin but every last muthafuckin thang. I just forgot, you know, biatch? This thang. Man, it gets ta you, biatch.

 **DEAN**  
Yo ass can't let dat shit. Yo ass can't brang it home like dat n' like dis n' like dat y'all.

 **SAM**  
So, what, biatch? All dis dat shit...never keeps you up at night?

DEAN shakes his head.

 **SAM**  
Never, biatch? Yo ass is never afraid?

 **DEAN**  
Fuck dat shit, not straight-up.

SAM reaches under DEAN'S pillow ta pull up a big-ass hustlin knife n' holdz it up as evidence.  
DEAN takes tha knife back.

 **DEAN**  
Thatz not fear. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. That is precaution.

 **SAM**  
All right, whatever n' shit. I be too chillaxed ta argue.

DEANz beeper rings.

 **DEAN**  
Hello?

_INT. OFFICE - DAY, alternatin wit INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY_

**JERRY**  
Dean, it's, uh, itz Jeremy Panowski. Yo ass n' yo' daddy helped mah crazy ass up a cold-ass lil couple muthafuckin years back.

 **DEAN**  
Oh, right, yeah. Up up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, tha poltergeist thang. It aint nuthin but not back, is it?

 **JERRY**  
No. No. Thank god, no. But itz suttin' else, and...uh, I be thinkin it could be a shitload worse.

 **DEAN**  
What tha fuck iz it?

 **JERRY**  
Can we rap up in person?

DEAN eyes SAM. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM eyes back.

_EXT. FIELD - DAY_

Da Impala drives along a road.

_INT yo. HANGAR - DAY_

**JERRY**  
Thanks fo' makin tha trip so quick. I ought ta be bustin you muthafuckas a gangbangin' favor, not tha other way around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dean n' yo' daddy straight-up helped mah crazy ass out.

 **SAM**  
Yeah, tha pimpin' muthafucka holla'd at mah dirty ass. Dat shiznit was a poltergeist?

 **MAN**  
Poltergeist, biatch? Man, I loved dat porno.

 **JERRY**  
Yo, no muthafuckaz poppin' off ta you, biatch. Keep strutting. Damn right dat shiznit was a poltergeist, practically tore our doggy den apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't fo' you n' yo' dad, I probably wouldn't be kickin dat shit, yo. Yo crazy-ass daddy holla'd you was off at college. Is dat right?

 **SAM**  
Yeah, I was. I'm-takin some time off.

 **JERRY**  
Well, da thug was real proud as a muthafucka of you, biatch. I could tell yo. Dude talked bout you all tha time.

 **SAM**  
Dude did?

 **JERRY**  
Yeah, you bet da ruffneck done did. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Oh, hey, you know I tried ta git a hold of his ass yo, but I couldn't yo. Howz da ruffneck bustin, anyway?

 **DEAN**  
He's, um, wrapped up in a thang n' aint a thugged-out damn thang dat yo' ass can do.

 **JERRY**  
Well, we missin tha oldschool dude yo, but we git Sam. Even trade, huh?

DEAN laughs.

 **SAM**  
Fuck dat shit, not by a long-ass shot.

 **JERRY**  
I gots suttin' I want you muthafuckas ta hear.

_INT. OFFICE - DAY_

**JERRY**  
I listened ta all dis bullshit fo' realz. And, well, it sounded like dat shiznit was up yo' alley.

JERRY puts a CD up in a thugged-out drive.

 **JERRY**  
Normally I wouldn't have access ta all dis bullshit. It aint nuthin but tha cockpit voice recorder fo' United Britannia flight 2485. Dat shiznit was one of ours.

 **RECORDING**  
Maydizzle dawwwwg! Maydizzle dawwwwg! Repeat son! This is United Britania 2485-immediate instruction help! United Britanis 2485, I copy yo' message-May be fuckin wit some mechanical failure...

There be a funky-ass bangin whooshin sound.

 **JERRY**  
Took off from here, crashed bout two hundred milez south. Now, they sayin mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. No Muthafucka knows why. Over a hundred playas on board. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Only seven gots up kickin dat shit, yo. Pilot was one yo. His name is Chuck Lambert. Dat punk a phat playa of mine. Chuck is, uh...well, he pretty fucked up bout dat shit. Like dat shiznit was his wild lil' fault.

 **SAM**  
Yo ass don't be thinkin it was?

 **JERRY**  
Fuck dat shit, I don't.

 **SAM**  
Jerry, we gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors.

 **JERRY**  
All right.

 **DEAN**  
And, uh, any way we can take a peep tha wreckage?

 **JERRY**  
Da other shiznit is no problem. But tha wreckage...fellas, tha NTSB has it locked down up in a evidence warehouse. No way I've gots dat kind of clearance.

DEAN frowns.

 **DEAN**  
No problem.

_EXT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. STREET - DAY_

SAM is waitin by tha hoopty outside a Copy Jack fo' realz. As DEAN exits, a bangin biatch enters.

 **WOMAN**  
Hey

 **DEAN**  
Hi.

 **SAM**  
You've been up in there alllll muthafuckin day.

DEAN holdz up two IDs.

 **DEAN**  
Yo ass can't rush perfection.

 **SAM**  
Homeland Security?

SAM takes one of tha IDs.

 **SAM**  
Thatz pretty illegal, even fo' us.

 **DEAN**  
Yeah, well, itz suttin' new. Yo ass know, biatch? Muthafuckas aint peeped it a thousand times.

They git up in tha car.

 **DEAN**  
All right, so, what tha fuck do you got?

 **SAM**  
Well, there be a thugged-out definitely EVP on tha cockpit voice recorder.

 **DEAN**  
Yeah?

 **SAM**  
Listen.

Dude skits tha tape, which has been edited ta pull up a scratchy voice.

 **VOICE**  
No survivors!

 **DEAN**  
"No survivors", biatch? Whatz dat supposed ta mean, biatch? There was seven survivors.

 **SAM**  
Got mah dirty ass.

 **DEAN**  
So, what tha fuck is you thinking, biatch? A hustled flight?

 **SAM**  
Therez a long-ass history of spirits n' dirtnap omens on planes n' ships, like phantom travelers.

 **DEAN**  
Mm-hmm.

 **SAM**  
Or remember flight 401?

 **DEAN**  
Right. Da one dat crashed, tha airline salvaged a shitload of its parts, put it up in other planes, then tha spirit of tha pilot n' copilot hustled dem flights.

 **SAM**  
Right.

 **DEAN**  
Yep.

 **SAM**  
Maybe we gots a similar deal.

 **DEAN**  
All right, so, survivors, which one do you wanna rap ta first?

 **SAM**  
Third on tha list: Max Jaffey.

 **DEAN**  
Why him?

 **SAM**  
Well, fo' one, he from round here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho fo' realz. And two, if mah playas saw anythang weird, da ruffneck done did.

 **DEAN**  
What make you say that?

 **SAM**  
Well, I was rappin ta his crazy-ass mother.

_EXT yo. HOSPITAL - DAY_

Da Impala is parked up in front of tha gate ta a funky-ass buildin wit a sign up front readin RIVERFRONT PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL.

 **SAM (voiceover)**  
And dat dunkadelic hoe holla'd at mah crazy ass where ta find his muthafuckin ass.

_EXT. GARDEN AT HOSPITAL - DAY_

MAX is struttin wit a cold-ass lil cane between SAM n' DEAN.

 **MAX**  
I don't understand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I already was rappin wit Homeland Security.

 **DEAN**  
Right. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Some freshly smoked up shiznit has come up. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So if you could just answer a cold-ass lil couple thangs...

 **SAM**  
Just before tha plane went down, did you notice anything...unusual?

 **MAX**  
Like what?

 **DEAN**  
Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices.

 **MAX**  
Fuck dat shit, nothing.

 **DEAN**  
Mista Muthafuckin Joffey-

 **MAX**  
Jaffey.

 **DEAN**  
Jaffey. Yo ass checked yo ass up in here, right?

MAX nods.

 **DEAN**  
Can I ask why?

 **MAX**  
I was a lil stressed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I survived a plane crash.

 **DEAN**  
Uh huh fo' realz. And thatz what tha fuck terrified yo slick ass, biatch? Thatz what tha fuck you was afraid of?

 **MAX**  
I...I don't wanna rap bout dis no mo'.

 **DEAN**  
See, I be thinkin maybe you did peep suttin' up there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. We need ta know what.

 **MAX**  
No. Fuck dat shit, I was...delusional. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Seein thangs.

 **DEAN**  
Dude was seein thangs.

 **SAM**  
It aint nuthin but all gravy. Then just tell our asses what tha fuck you thought you saw, please.

 **MAX**  
There was...this-man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And, uh, dat schmoooove muthafucka had these...eyes-these, uh...black eyes fo' realz. And I saw him-or I thought I saw his muthafuckin ass...

 **DEAN**  
What?

 **MAX**  
Dude opened tha emergency exit. But that's...thatz impossible, right, biatch? I mean, I looked it up. Therez suttin' like two tonz of heat on dat door.

 **DEAN**  
Yeah.

 **SAM**  
This dude, uh, did da perved-out muthafucka seem ta step tha fuck up n' disappear rapidly, biatch? It would look suttin' like a mirage?

 **MAX  
** What is you, nuts?

SAM tilts his head.

 **MAX  
** Dude was a passenger n' shiznit yo. Dude was chillin right up in front of mah dirty ass.

_EXT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. STREET - DAY_   
  


Da IMPALA pulls up in front of a house.

 **SAM  
** So here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C.

 **DEAN  
** Hmm. Man, I couldn't give a fuckin shiznit how tha fuck phat yo ass is.

DEAN n' SAM git outta tha car.

 **DEAN  
** Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up a emergency door durin a gangbangin' flight.

 **SAM  
** Not if you human. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. But maybe dis muthafucka George was suttin' else. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Some kind of creature, maybe, up in human form.

 **DEAN  
** Do dat be lookin like a cold-ass lil creaturez lair ta yo slick ass?

SAM turns ta peep tha perfectly ordinary house.

_INT. PHELPS HOUSE - DAY_   
  


DEAN n' SAM sit across from MRS. PHELPS. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM is lookin at a gangbangin' framed photograph.

 **SAM  
** This is yo' late homeboy?

 **MRS. PHELPS  
** Yes, dat was mah George.

 **DEAN  
** And you holla'd da thug was a...dentist?

 **MRS. PHELPS  
** Mm-hm yo. Dude was headed ta a cold-ass lil convention up in Denver n' shit. Do you know dat da thug was petrified ta fly, biatch? For his ass ta go like dat n' like dis n' like dat y'all...

 **SAM  
** How tha fuck long was you married?

 **MRS. PHELPS  
** Thirteen years.

 **SAM  
** In all dat time, did you eva notice anything...strange bout him, anythang outta tha ordinary?

 **MRS. PHELPS  
** Well...uh, dat schmoooove muthafucka had acid reflux, if thatz what tha fuck you mean.

DEAN n' SAM looks at each other.

_EXT. PHELPS HOUSE - DAY_   
  


SAM n' DEAN come down tha stairs up front.

 **SAM  
** I mean it goes without saying. Well shiiiit, it just don't make any sense.

 **DEAN  
** A middle-aged dentist wit a ulcer aint exactly evil personified. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Yo ass know what tha fuck we need ta do is git inside dat NTSB warehouse, hit up tha wreckage.

 **SAM  
** Okay. But if we gonna go dat route, we'd betta look tha part.

_EXT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SUIT RENTAL SHOP - DAY_   
  


Black Sabbathz "Paranoid" begins ta play.  
DEAN n' SAM exit a store, "MORT'S fo' style", bustin crisp black suits wit white shirts, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM adjusts his collar.

 **DEAN  
** Man, I be lookin like one of tha Blues Brothers.

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, you don't. Yo ass look mo' like a...seventh-grader at his wild lil' first dance.

 **MUSIC**  
Finished wit mah biatch  
'Cause dat thugged-out biiiatch couldn't help me wit mah mind

DEAN looks down at his dirty ass.

 **DEAN  
** I don't give a fuck bout dis thang.

 **MUSIC  
** Muthafuckas be thinkin I be insane

 **SAM  
** Hey. Yo ass want tha fuck into dat warehouse or not?

 **MUSIC  
** Because I be frownin all tha time

DEAN starts tha Impala, SAM already chillin shotgun.

_INT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. STORAGE WAREHOUSE - DAY_   
  


They enta tha warehouse n' show they badges ta tha SECURITY GUARD, whoz ass nodz n' lets dem in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. They strutt among plane wreckage; DEAN pulls up a thang n' puts earbudz up in his wild lil' fuckin ears.

 **SAM  
** What tha fuck iz that?

 **DEAN  
** It aint nuthin but a EMF meter n' shit. Readz electromagnetic frequencies.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, I know what tha fuck a EMF meta is yo, but why do dat one be lookin like a funky-ass busted-up struttman?

 **DEAN  
** 'Cause thatz what tha fuck I juiced it up of. It aint nuthin but homemade.

DEAN grins.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, I can peep that.

DEANz grin disappears.  
DEAN runs tha EMF meta over a piece of tha wreckage wit yellow dust on it n' gets a audible spike.

 **DEAN  
** Hit up tha emergency door handle.

DEAN scratches all up in tha yellow dust n' gets some on his hand.

 **DEAN  
** What tha fuck iz dis stuff?

 **SAM  
** One way ta smoke up.

SAM scrapes a shitload of tha yellow dust off tha fuck into a funky-ass bag.

_INT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SECURITY DESK OF STORAGE WAREHOUSE - DAY_   
  


Two AGENTS up in black suits approach tha securitizzle desk n' show they badges.

 **SECURITY GUARD  
** Homeland Security, biatch? What, one crew of y'all muthafuckas aint enough?

 **AGENT  
** What is you poppin' off about?

 **SECURITY GUARD  
** Two of yo' buddies went inside not five minutes ago.

Da second AGENT looks all up in tha first.

_INT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. STORAGE WAREHOUSE - DAY_   
  


Da AGENTS n' nuff muthafuckin SECURITY GUARDS bust in, glocks drawn, n' search. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM n' DEAN hear dem coming. Da AGENTS n' GUARDS peep nothing.

_EXT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. STORAGE WAREHOUSE - DAY_   
  


SAM n' DEAN peer round a cold-ass lil corner n' strutt up casually fo' realz. An alarm blares, n' they run ta tha gated exit. Pullin off his suit jacket, DEAN throws it over tha barbed wire all up in tha top of tha fence, n' they climb over n' shiznit yo. Dude grabs tha jacket.

 **DEAN  
** Well, these monkey suits do come up in handy.

DEAN runs off. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM bigs up.

_INT fo' realz. AIRPORT - DAY_   
  


CHUCK is chillin nervously up in a cold-ass lil chair yo. His COPILOT is givin his ass a pep talk.

 **COPILOT  
** Listen, Chuck. It aint nuthin but like gettin back on a horse. Only up in dis case, a lil twin engine. Not even a horse, mo' like a pony. I be bout ta be right there wit you like a muthafucka fo' realz. Anytime you feel like you don't want tha wheel, I be bout ta take over n' shit. Look, Chuck, our phat asses don't gotta do dis todizzle. It make me wanna hollar playa! I aint tryin ta rush you, biatch.

 **CHUCK  
** Fuck dat shit, the...the waitin is worse.

Da COPILOT glances over his shoulder.

 **COPILOT  
** Okay, they fillin up tha tank. Then we go.

Da COPILOT gets up n' leaves. CHUCK takes a thugged-out drank of coffee. Behind him, a cold-ass lil cloud of black particlez exits a vent n' rushes tha fuck into CHUCK'S eyes.

 **INT. JERRY'S OFFICE - DAY  
** JERRY looks all up in tha yellow shiznit all up in a microscope; what tha fuck tha microscope sees is replicated on a screen.

 **JERRY  
** Huh. This shiznit is covered up in sulfur.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass is sure?

 **JERRY  
** Take a look fo' yo ass.

Bangin soundz from outside tha crib.

 **MAN  
** Yo ass effin' piece of crap...

 **JERRY  
** If you fellows will excuse me, I gots a idiot ta fire.

As JERRY leaves, DEAN goes over n' looks tha fuck into tha microscope.

 **JERRY  
** Hey. Einstein. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yeah, you, biatch. What tha heck you bustin, biatch? Put tha wrench down-

 **DEAN  
** Hmm. Yo ass know, there be a not a fuckin shitload of thangs dat leave behind a sulfuric residue.

 **SAM  
** Demonic possession?

 **DEAN  
** It would explain how tha fuck a mortal playa would have tha strength ta open up a emergency hatch.

 **SAM  
** If tha muthafucka was possessed, itz possible.

 **DEAN  
** This goes way beyond floatin over a funky-ass bed or barfin pea soup. I mean itz one thang ta possess a thug yo, but ta use dem ta take down a entire airplane?

 **SAM  
** Yo ass eva heard of suttin' like dis before?

 **DEAN  
** Never.

_EXT fo' realz. AIRPORT TARMAC - DAY_   
  


Da COPILOT is waitin by a lil' small-ass plane; CHUCK, lookin cheerful n' chillaxed, approaches.

 **CHUCK  
** I be ready. Letz do this.

Da COPILOT, confused, laughs n' bigs up CHUCK ta tha plane.

_INT. PLANE IN FLIGHT - DAY_   
  


**COPILOT  
** How tha fuck you feeling?

 **CHUCK  
** I feel pimped out.

 **COPILOT  
** You'll be back flyin jumbos before you know dat shit.

 **CHUCK  
** I hope so yo. How tha fuck long we been up?

 **COPILOT  
** Uh...almost forty minutes.

 **CHUCK  
** Wow. Time straight-up do fly.

CHUCK suddenly dives tha plane towardz tha ground.

 **COPILOT  
** What is you bustin?

CHUCK elbows tha COPILOT up in tha face. CHUCKz eyes is black.

_EXT. ROAD - DAY_   
  


A tractor is trundlin by as tha plane suddenly appears, crashin tha fuck into a telephone pole n' then tha ground.


	3. ACT TWO

_INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY_   
  


DEAN n' SAM is up in full research mode, wit images n' articlez taped ta tha walls n' strewn across tha beds, n' SAM is lookin at suttin' on tha computer n' shit. DEAN is readin suttin' on one bed while chillin on tha other.

 **SAM  
** So, every last muthafuckin religion up in every last muthafuckin ghetto culture has tha concept of demons n' demonic possession, right, biatch? I mean Christian, Natizzle Gangsta, Hindu, you name dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah yo, but none of dem describe anythang like dis y'all.

 **SAM  
** Well, thatz not exactly true. Yo ass peep accordin ta Japanese beliefs, certain demons is behind certain fuck ups, both natural n' man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease.

 **DEAN  
** And dis one causes plane crashes?

DEAN gets up.

 **DEAN  
** All right, so, what, biatch? Our thugged-out asses gotz a thugged-out demon thatz evolved wit tha times n' found a way ta ratchet up tha body count?

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Yo ass know, whoz ass knows how tha fuck nuff planes itz brought down before dis one?

DEAN snorts, turnin away.

 **SAM  
** What?

 **DEAN  
** I don't give a fuck, man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. This aint our aiiight gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just dirtnap n' destruction fo' its own sake. This is big-ass fo' realz. And I wish Dad was here.

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Me like a muthafucka.

DEAN'S beeper rings n' he lyrics dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** Hello?

 **JERRY  
** Dean, itz Jerry.

 **DEAN  
** Oh, hey, Jerry.

 **JERRY  
** My fuckin pilot playa...Chuck Lambert is dead as fuckin fried chicken.

 **DEAN  
** Wha-Jerry, I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. What happened?

 **JERRY  
** Dude n' his dawg went up in a lil' small-ass twin bout a minute ago. Da plane went down.

 **DEAN  
** Where'd dis happen?

 **JERRY  
** Bout sixty milez westside of here, near Nazareth.

 **DEAN  
** I be bout ta try ta ignore tha irony up in that.

 **JERRY  
** I be sorry?

 **DEAN  
** Nothing. Jerry, hang up in there, all right, biatch? We bout ta catch up wit you soon.

DEAN hangs up.

 **SAM  
** Another crash?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. Letz go.

 **SAM  
** Where?

 **DEAN  
** Nazareth.

_EXT. ROAD - DAY_   
  


Da IMPALA drives past a road sign readin NAZARETH 3. Black smoke is visible up in tha near distance.

_INT. JERRY'S OFFICE - DAY_   
  


JERRY be again n' again n' again lookin all up in a microscope.

 **DEAN  
** Sulfur?

JERRY nods.

 **DEAN  
** Well, thatz pimped out fo' realz. All right, thatz two plane crashes involvin Chuck Lambert. This demon soundz like dat shiznit was afta his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** With all due respect ta Chuck, if thatz tha case, dat would be tha phat news.

 **DEAN  
** Whatz tha shitty news?

 **SAM  
** Chuckz plane went down exactly forty minutes tha fuck into flight fo' realz. And git this, so did flight 2485.

 **JERRY  
** Forty minutes, biatch? What do dat mean?

 **DEAN  
** It aint nuthin but biblical numerology. Yo ass know Noahz ark, it drizzled fo' forty days. Da number means dirtnap.

 **SAM  
** I went back, n' there done been six plane crashes over tha last decade dat all went down exactly forty minutes in.

 **DEAN  
** Any survivors?

 **SAM  
** No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, fo' some reason. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. On tha cockpit voice recorder, remember what tha fuck tha EVP Said?

 **DEAN  
** "No survivors."

DEAN thinks.

 **DEAN  
** It aint nuthin but goin afta all tha survivors. It aint nuthin but tryin ta finish tha thang.

_INT. IMPALA - NIGHT_   
  


DEAN is driving. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM is on tha phone. Rushz "Workin Man" plays.

 **SAM  
** Really, biatch? Well, fuck you fo' takin our survey, And if you do plan ta fly, please don't forget yo' playaz at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks.

SAM hangs up.

 **SAM  
** All right. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson n' Dennis Holloway. They're not flyin anytime soon.

 **DEAN  
** So our only wildcard is tha flight attendant Amanda Walker.

 **SAM  
** Right yo. Her sista Karen holla'd her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight pm. It aint nuthin but her first night back on tha thang.

 **MUSIC**  
Well I git up at seven, yeah  
And I git all up in work at nine

 **DEAN  
** That soundz like just our luck.

 **SAM  
** Dean, dis be a gangbangin' five-hour drive, dude, even wit you behind tha wheel.

 **MUSIC**  
I gots no time fo' livin' yeah  
I be hustlin all tha time

 **DEAN  
** Call Amandaz cellphone again, peep if we can't head her off all up in tha pass.

 **MUSIC**  
It seems ta me  
I could live mah game

 **SAM  
** I already left her three voice lyrics. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch must have turned her cellphone off.

 **MUSIC  
** A lot betta than I be thinkin I am

 **SAM  
** God, we never gonna make dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** We bout ta make dat shit.

 **MUSIC**  
I guess thatz why they call me  
They call me tha hustlin man

_INT fo' realz. AIRPORT - NIGHT_   
  


DEAN n' SAM rush tha fuck into tha airport n' check tha Departure board.

 **MUSIC**  
Well they call me tha hustlin man  
I guess thatz what tha fuck I am

 **SAM  
** Right there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. They're boardin up in thirty minutes.

 **DEAN  
** Okay. We still have some cardz ta play. We need ta find a phone.

DEAN picks up a cold-ass lil courtesy phone.

 **VOICE  
** Airport Services.

 **DEAN  
** Yo! Gate thirteen.

 **VOICE  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck is you calling, sir?

 **DEAN  
** I be tryin ta contact a Amanda Walker n' shit. Dat hoe a gangbangin' flight attendant on flight, um...flight 4-2-4.

_INT fo' realz. AIRPORT, GATE 13 - NIGHT_   
  


**PA VOICE  
** Amanda Walker, Amanda Walker, you gotz a funky-ass beeper call. White courtesy phone, gate thirteen.

AMANDA approaches tha gate, hearin tha announcement. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch picks up tha phone.

_INT fo' realz. AIRPORT - NIGHT n' INT fo' realz. AIRPORT, GATE 13 - NIGHT, alternating_   
  


**DEAN  
** Come on.

 **AMANDA  
** This is Amanda Walker.

 **DEAN  
** Miss Walker n' shit. Yea muthafucka, dis is Dr. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Jizzy Hetfield from St. Frankie Memorial Hospitizzle. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Our thugged-out asses gotz a Karen Walker here.

 **AMANDA  
** Karen?

 **DEAN  
** Nothang serious, just a minor hoopty accident yo, but dat biiiiatch was fucked up, so-

 **AMANDA  
** Wa-wait, thatz impossible. I just gots off tha beeper wit her muthafuckin ass.

DEAN pauses.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass what?

 **AMANDA  
** Five minutes ago. Dat hoe at her house, crammin fo' a gangbangin' final. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck is this?

 **DEAN  
** Uh, well...there must be some mistake.

 **AMANDA  
** And how tha fuck would you even know I was here?

SAM goes round DEAN ta try ta hear what tha fuck be happenin.

 **AMANDA  
** Is dis one of Vincez playas?

 **DEAN  
** Guilty as charged.

 **AMANDA  
** Wow. This is unbelievable.

 **DEAN  
** Dat punk straight-up sorry bout dat bullshit.

 **AMANDA  
** Well, you tell his ass ta mind his own bidnizz n' stay outta mah game, aiiight?

 **DEAN  
** Yes yo, but...he straight-up need ta peep you tonight, so-

 **AMANDA  
** Fuck dat shit, I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. It aint nuthin but too late.

 **DEAN  
** Don't be like dis shit. Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da muthafuckaz a mess. Really. It aint nuthin but pathetic.

 **AMANDA  
** Really?

 **DEAN  
** Oh, yeah.

 **AMANDA  
** Look, I've gots ta bounce tha fuck out. Um...tell his ass ta booty-call me when I land.

AMANDA hangs up.

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dat shit, no. Wait, Amanda fo' realz. Amanda!

AMANDA headz fo' tha plane, greetin coworkers.

 **AMANDA  
** Wuz crackalackin' yo, biatch? Yo, Bob.

Da black cloud comes outta a vent, then goes back in.

_INT fo' realz. AIRPORT CHECK-IN AREA - NIGHT_   
  


**DEAN  
** Damn dat shiznit son! So close.

 **INTERCOM  
** Nuff props fo' flyin United Britannia Airlines.

 **SAM  
** All right, itz time fo' plan B. We gettin on dat plane.

 **DEAN  
** Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second.

DEAN is wide-eyed.

 **SAM  
** Dean, dat plane is leavin wit over a hundred passengers on board, n' if we right, dat plane is gonna crash.

 **DEAN  
** I know.

 **SAM  
** Okay. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So we gettin on tha plane, we need ta find dat demon n' exorcise dat shit. I be bout ta git tha tickets, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Yo ass git whatever you can outta tha trunk. Whatever dat will make it all up in tha security. Hook up me back here up in five minutes.

DEAN just looks at his ass anxiously.

 **SAM  
** Is you aiiight?

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dat shit, not straight-up.

 **SAM  
** What, biatch? Whatz wrong?

 **DEAN  
** Well, I kind of have dis problem with, uh...

 **SAM  
** Flying?

 **DEAN  
** It aint nuthin but never straight-up been a issue until now, nahmeean?

 **SAM  
** Yo ass is clownin, right?

 **DEAN  
** Do I be lookin like I be clownin, biatch? Why do you be thinkin I drive everywhere, Sam?

 **SAM  
** All right. Uh, I be bout ta go.

 **DEAN  
** What?

 **SAM  
** I be bout ta do dis one on mah own.

 **DEAN  
** What is you, nuts, biatch? Yo ass holla'd it yo ass, tha planez gonna crash.

 **SAM  
** Dean, we can do it together, or I can do dis one by mah dirty ass. I aint seein a third option, here.

 **DEAN  
** Come on! Fo' realz, biatch? Man...

_INT. PLANE - NIGHT_   
  


**INTERCOM  
** Flight attendants, please cross-check [something] before departure.

DEAN, up in tha aisle seat, be anxiously readin tha safety card.

 **SAM  
** Just try ta chillax.

 **DEAN  
** Just try ta shut tha fuck up.

Da plane takes off, wit DEAN jumpin at every last muthafuckin rumble n' sound. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! SAM smirks.


	4. ACT THREE

_INT. PLANE IN FLIGHT - NIGHT_

DEAN is leanin back, hummin ta his dirty ass. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM looks over.

 **SAM**  
Yo ass is hummin Metallica?

 **DEAN**  
Calms me down.

 **SAM**  
Look, dude, I git you nervous, all right, biatch? But you gots ta stay focused.

 **DEAN**  
Okay.

 **SAM**  
I mean, we gots thirty-two minutes n' countin ta track dis thang down, or whoever itz possessing, anyway, n' big-ass up a gangbangin' full-on exorcism.

 **DEAN**  
Yeah, on a cold-ass lil crowded plane. Thatz gonna be easy as fuck .

 **SAM**  
Just take it one step at a time, all right, biatch? Now, whoz ass is it possessing?

 **DEAN**  
It aint nuthin but probably gonna be some muthafucka wit some sort of weakness, you know, a cold-ass lil chink up in tha armor dat tha demon can worm all up in cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Some Muthafucka wit a addiction or some sort of wack distress.

 **SAM**  
Well, dis is Amandaz first flight afta tha crash. If I was her, I'd be pretty messed up.

 **DEAN**  
Mm-hm.

DEAN turns ta a FLIGHT ATTENDANT, whoz ass aint AMANDA.

 **DEAN**  
Excuse mah dirty ass. Is you Amanda?

 **FLIGHT ATTENDANT**  
Fuck dat shit, I be not.

 **DEAN**  
Oh, mah mistake.

 **FLIGHT ATTENDANT**  
Mm-hm.

DEAN looks ta tha back of tha plane ta AMANDA.

 **DEAN**  
All right, well, thatz gots ta be Amanda back there, so I be bout ta go rap ta her, and, uh, I be bout ta git a read on her menstrual state.

 **SAM**  
What if she already possessed?

 **DEAN**  
Therez ways ta test that.

DEAN goes tha fuck into his bag n' comes up wit a Virgin Mary-shaped forty of water.

 **DEAN**  
I brought holy water.

 **SAM**  
No.

SAM snatches tha forty n' tucks it inside his hoodie.

 **SAM**  
I be thinkin we can go mo' subtle. If she possessed, she'll flinch all up in tha name of Dogg.

 **DEAN**  
Oh. Nice.

DEAN turns ta bounce tha fuck out.

 **SAM**  
Hey.

 **DEAN**  
What?

 **SAM**  
Say it up in Latin.

 **DEAN**  
I know.

DEAN leaves again.

 **SAM**  
Okay yo. Hey!

 **DEAN**  
What?!

 **SAM**  
Uh, up in Latin, itz "Christo".

 **DEAN**  
Dude, I know! I aint a idiot!

DEAN make his way ta tha back of tha plane, thumpin a seat once afta tha plane shakes.

 **COPILOT**  
Ladies n' gentlemen, dis is yo' first fool bustin lyrics...

AMANDA is fussin wit tha drank cart n' napkins.

 **DEAN**  
Hi.

 **AMANDA**  
Yo! Can I help you wit something?

 **DEAN**  
Oh, no. I be just a lil' bit of a uneasy flier n' shit. Well shiiiit, it make me feel betta ta strutt round a lil bit.

 **AMANDA**  
Oh, it happens ta tha dopest of us.

 **DEAN**  
Of course, you bein a stewardess, I guess flyin comes easy as fuck ta you, biatch.

AMANDA laughs.

 **AMANDA**  
You'd be surprised.

 **DEAN**  
Really, biatch? Yo ass be a straight-up trippin flier?

 **AMANDA**  
Yeah, maybe, lil bit.

 **DEAN**  
How tha fuck is it that, bein a stewardess, you scared ta fly?

 **AMANDA**  
Kind of a long-ass story.

 **DEAN**  
Right. I be sorry as a muthafucka fo' asking.

 **AMANDA**  
It aint nuthin but all gravy.

 **DEAN**  
Yo ass eva consider other employment?

 **AMANDA**  
No. Look, playas scared of something. I just, uh...I aint gonna let it hold mah crazy ass back.

 **DEAN**  
Huh.

 **AMANDA**  
So...

 **DEAN, on tha fuckin' down-lowly**  
Christo.

 **AMANDA**  
I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. Did yo dirty ass say something?

DEAN hesitates.

 **DEAN**  
Christo?

 **AMANDA**  
I-I didn't, I didn't...

 **DEAN**  
Yeah, nothing. Never mind.

DEAN returns ta his seat.

 **AMANDA**  
Okay.

 **DEAN**  
All right, well, she gots ta be da most thugged-out well-adjusted thug on tha hood.

 **SAM**  
Yo ass holla'd "Christo"?

 **DEAN**  
Yeah.

 **SAM**  
And?

 **DEAN**  
Therez no demon up in her n' shit. Therez no demon gettin up in her muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM**  
So, if itz on tha plane, it can be mah playas fo' realz. Anywhere.

Da plane shakes.

 **DEAN**  
Come on! That can't be normal!

 **SAM**  
Yo, hey, itz just a lil turbulence.

 **DEAN**  
Sam, dis plane is goin ta crash, aiiight, biatch? So quit treatin me like I be friggin' four.

 **SAM**  
Yo ass need ta quit trippin' out.

 **DEAN**  
Well, I be sorry as a muthafucka I can't.

 **SAM**  
Yes, you can.

 **DEAN**  
Dude, stow tha touchy-feely, self-help yoga crap, it aint helping.

 **SAM**  
Listen, if you panicked, you wide open ta demonic possession, so you need ta calm yo ass down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right now, nahmeean?

DEAN takes a long, slow breath.

 **SAM**  
Good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Now, I found a exorcizzle up in here dat I be thinkin is gonna work. Da Rituale Romanum.

 **DEAN**  
What do we gotta do?

 **SAM**  
It aint nuthin but two parts, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Da first part expels tha demon from tha victimz body. Well shiiiit, it make it manifest, which straight-up make it mo' powerful.

 **DEAN**  
Mo' powerful?

 **SAM**  
Yeah.

 **DEAN**  
How?

 **SAM**  
Well, it don't need ta possess one of mah thugs no mo'. Well shiiiit, it can just wreak havoc on its own.

 **DEAN**  
Oh fo' realz. And why is dat a phat thang?

 **SAM**  
Well, cuz tha second part sendz tha bastard back ta hell once n' fo' all.

 **DEAN**  
First thangs first, we gots ta find dat shit.

DEAN strutts slowly up tha aisle wit his EMF meter, gettin odd looks but no readings. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM suddenly claps his ass on tha shoulder, n' he jumps.

 **DEAN**  
Ah! Don't do that.

 **SAM**  
Anything?

 **DEAN**  
Fuck dat shit, not a god damn thang yo. How tha fuck much time we got?

 **SAM**  
Fifteen minutes. Maybe we missed some muthafucka.

 **DEAN**  
Maybe tha thangz just not on tha plane.

 **SAM**  
Yo ass believe that?

 **DEAN**  
Well, I'ma if you will.

DEAN looks down as tha EMF meta spikes. Da COPILOT exits tha bathroom n' headz towardz tha cockpit.

 **SAM**  
What, biatch? What tha fuck iz it?

 **DEAN**  
Christo.

Da COPILOT turns slowly ta grill dem wild-ass muthafuckas yo. His eyes is black.  
Da COPILOT goes tha fuck into tha cockpit. DEAN looks at SAM.


	5. ACT FOUR

SAM n' DEAN head ta tha back of tha plane towardz Amanda.

 **SAM**  
Dat hoe not gonna believe this.

 **DEAN**  
Twelve minutes, dude.

 **AMANDA**  
Oh, hi. Flightz not too bumpy fo' you, I hope.

 **DEAN**  
Actually, thatz kind of what tha fuck we need ta rap ta you about.

SAM closes tha curtain.

 **AMANDA**  
Um, aiiight. What can I do fo' yo slick ass?

 **DEAN**  
All right, dis is gonna sound nuts yo, but our laid-back asses just aint gots time fo' tha whole "the truth is up there" rap n' aint a thugged-out damn thang dat yo' ass can do.

 **SAM**  
All right, look, we know you was on flight 2485.

AMANDAz smile disappeared.

 **AMANDA**  
Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck is you muthafuckas?

 **SAM**  
Now, we've spoken ta a shitload of tha other survivors. We know suttin' brought down dat plane n' it wasn't a mechanical failure.

 **DEAN**  
We need yo' help cuz we need ta stop it from goin' down again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Now.

 **AMANDA**  
I be sorry, I-I be straight-up busy. I gotta go back-

Bitch tries ta brush past DEAN, whoz ass stops her muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN**  
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I aint gonna hurt you, aiiight, biatch? But dig me, uh...Da pilot up in 2485, Chuck Lambert. Dat punk dead as fuckin fried chicken.

 **AMANDA**  
Wait. What, biatch? What, Chuck is dead?

 **DEAN**  
Dude took a dirt nap up in a plane crash. Now, thatz two plane crashes up in two months. That don't strike you as strange?

 **AMANDA**  
I-

 **SAM**  
Look, there was suttin' wack wit 2485. Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there be a suttin' wack wit dis flight, like a muthafucka.

 **DEAN**  
Amanda, you gotta believe us.

 **AMANDA**  
On...on 2485, there was dis man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. He...had these eyes.

 **SAM**  
Yes yes y'all. Thatz exactly what tha fuck we poppin' off about.

 **AMANDA**  
I don't understand, what tha fuck is you askin me ta do?

 **DEAN**  
Okay. Da copilot, we need you ta brang his ass back here.

 **AMANDA**  
Why, biatch? What do he gotta do wit anything?

 **DEAN**  
Don't have time ta explain. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Us playas just need ta rap ta his muthafuckin ass. Okay?

 **AMANDA**  
How tha fuck is I supposed ta go up in tha cockpit n' git tha copilot-

 **SAM**  
Do whatever it takes. Tell his ass there be a suttin' fucked up back here, whatever will git his ass outta dat cockpit.

 **AMANDA**  
Do you know dat I could lose mah thang if you-

 **DEAN**  
Okay, well you gonna lose a shitload mo' if you don't help our asses out.

AMANDA hesitates.

 **AMANDA**  
Okay.

AMANDA leaves n' goes ta tha cockpit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch knocks on tha door n' say suttin' inaudible ta tha copilot, whoz ass bigs up her back. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM pulls up tha holy gin n juice n' shit. DEAN pulls up Johnz journal n' handz it ta SAM, whoz ass opens dat shit.

 **COPILOT**  
Yeah, whatz tha problem?

DEAN punches his ass up in tha face, knockin his ass down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude pins his ass down n' puts duct tape over his crazy-ass grill.

 **AMANDA**  
Wait. What is you bustin, biatch? Yo ass holla'd you was just gonna rap ta his muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN**  
We is gonna rap ta his muthafuckin ass.

DEAN splashes holy wata on his skin, which sizzles.

 **AMANDA**  
Oh, mah god. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Whatz wack wit him?

 **SAM**  
Look. We need you calm. We need you outside tha curtain.

 **AMANDA**  
Well, I don't underst-I don't give a fuck-

 **SAM**  
Don't let anybody in, aiiight, biatch? Yo ass betta do that, biatch? Yo ass betta do that, biatch? Amanda?

 **AMANDA**  
Okay. Okay.

AMANDA leaves.

 **DEAN**  
Hurry up, Sam. I don't give a fuck how tha fuck much longer I can hold his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM**  
Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino-

Da DEMON breaks free briefly n' hits dem both until DEAN manages ta subdue his ass again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM picks up where he left off. Da DEMON knocks DEAN off again n' again n' again n' pulls tha tape off his crazy-ass grill yo. Dude grabs SAM by tha collar.

 **DEMON**  
I know what tha fuck happened ta yo' hoe hommie! Biatch must have took a dirt nap screaming! Even now, da hoe burning!

DEAN recovers n' hits tha DEMON as SAM sits there, stunned.

 **DEAN**  
Sam!

SAM recovers n' begins readin again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude puts tha book down n' helps DEAN pin down tha DEMON, whoz ass kicks tha book up tha aisle.

 **SAM**  
I gots his muthafuckin ass.

Da DEMON exits tha COPILOTz body n' disappears tha fuck into a vent.

 **SAM**  
Where'd it go?

 **DEAN**  
It aint nuthin but up in tha plane yo. Hurry up. We gots ta finish dat shit.

_EXT. PLANE - NIGHT n' INT. PLANE - NIGHT, alternating_   
  


Da plane suddenly dips n' heaves violently. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM strugglez ta retrieve tha book as DEAN splays his dirty ass against tha exit door, screaming.  
SAM manages ta grab tha book n' readz tha rest of tha exorcizzle fo' realz. A bright electrical charge runs all up in tha entire plane, which then levels out.  
Various playas ask if everyonez all gravy fo' realz. AMANDA sighs up in relief. DEAN comes up from behind tha curtain. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM standz up.


	6. EPILOGUE

_INT fo' realz. AIRPORT - NIGHT_   
  


Da passengers from tha flight is disembarkin ta a area millin wit uniformed agents (PARAMEDIC, STD, FAA, etc). Da COPILOT is seated up in a wheelchair wit a funky-ass blanket wrapped round him, bein dissed by a FAA AGENT.

 **FAA AGENT**  
Sir, can you tell me what tha fuck happened?

 **COPILOT**  
I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. I was struttin all up in tha airport, then all dat shiznit goes blank. I don't even remember gettin on tha plane.

AMANDA is bein dissed by another agent.

 **STD AGENT**  
Anythang else?

 **AMANDA**  
Fuck dat shit, thatz all.

Bitch sees SAM n' DEAN standin across tha way n' grills "Nuff props". They nod.

 **DEAN**  
Letz git outta here.

DEAN n' SAM head fo' tha exit.

 **DEAN**  
Yo ass aiiight?

SAM stops n' turns.

 **SAM**  
Dean, it knew bout Jessica.

 **DEAN**  
Sam, these thangs, they, they read minds. They lie fo' realz. All right, biatch? Thatz all it was.

 **SAM**  
Yeah.

 **DEAN**  
Come on.

_EXT fo' realz. AIRPORT - DAY_   
  


**JERRY**  
No Muthafucka knows what tha fuck you muthafuckas did yo, but I do fo' realz. All dem playas could done been capped.

JERRY shakes they hands.

 **JERRY**  
Yo crazy-ass dadz gonna be real proud.

 **SAM**  
We bout ta peep you around, Jerry.

DEAN begins ta head off.

 **DEAN**  
Yo ass know, Jerry.

 **JERRY**  
Yeah.

 **DEAN**  
I meant ta ask you, how tha fuck did you git mah cellphone number, anyway, biatch? I've only had it fo' like six months.

 **JERRY**  
Yo crazy-ass daddy gave it ta mah dirty ass.

 **SAM**  
What?

 **DEAN**  
When did you rap ta him?

 **JERRY**  
I mean, I didn't exactly rap ta his ass yo, but I called his number n' shiznit yo. His voice message holla'd ta hit you wit a cold-ass lil call. Thanks again, muthafuckas.  
JERRY leaves.

_EXT fo' realz. AIRPORT ACCESS - DAY_   
  


A plane wit a red maple leaf on tha tail flies overhead.

 **SAM**  
This don't make any sense, man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Ya Mom shoulda told ya, I called Dadz number like fifty times. It aint nuthin but been outta service.

DEAN dials a number n' shiznit fo' realz. As tha voice message begins, tha pimpin' muthafucka turns it so SAM can hear like a muthafucka.

 **JOHN**  
This is Jizzy Winchesta n' shit. I can't be reached. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! If dis be a emergency, call mah son, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 785-555-0179 yo. Dude can help.

SAM fumes n' gets up in tha car. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. DEAN bigs up, n' they drive off. Music plays.


End file.
